Category: Leather

I mounted the spanking bench completely naked. He put a blanket over my calves and feet. It protects my feet from errant strikes and gives me some warmth somewhere. The rest of me is exposed and available to his whim.

His hand caressed my ass and back as he contemplated what to do to me. He told me I was his plaything, his toy. “Yes Daddy.” I said. He gripped the hair at the nape of my neck firmly.

“Daddy’s not here now. It is only Master. There is no protection here for you now. Do you understand slut?”

“Yes D..d..Master.” He has ingrained in me that he is Daddy. He cares for me and protects me. But when we evoke the darkness he quashes Daddy purposefully so that Master may step to the fore.

I knew then that this would not be a soft and gentle flogging. It would be harsh. I braced myself. Usually he warms my body and skin with gentler, lighter taps. Not so today. From the beginning to the end it was all sting.

He used a vicious little red hand shaped crop then a leather crop on my ass. He has several but one in particular has more sting than the rest. Each swat was a harsh bite into my tender ass. “You know what this is slut?” He asked. I shook my head. He walked around to my face. I lifted up and pushed my hair aside. He held the crop to my lips. “Open.” He put the loop in my mouth and I bit down on it. “That’s right, you know this.”

He returned to striking my ass but harder and with more intensity. I tried not to squirm. I failed miserably but I tried. So much sting! My ass was on fire.

“Don’t you like what I have to give you? What are you?” He had been talking the whole time. But what had he been saying? The sting was overwhelming. I had heard but his voice was so distant.

“Yes, you are mine. You have no choice in that. But WHAT are you?” He struck again and again then waited for a response.

“Your slave! I’m your slave, Master.” I said.

“There, see, was that so hard? I should whip your sensitive thighs for making me wait for an answer.” He switched to the leather slapper he made. It is a short piece of leather doubled over on itself and sewn into an implement about 12 inches long with a handle. It carries quite a sting and can be wielded precisely.

He slapped my ass with it and the sting went deeper and spread out much further than the crop had. “No squriming.” Then he worked his way down my thighs. Oh my god, the sting on my thighs bloomed and I cried out. It was tenfold the level of sting on my ass. From the crease down I was soon smoldering with pain.

As I cried out and squirmed he said, “You remember your words don’t you?” I knew he meant my safe words.

“Yes, I know them Master!” As much as the sting was lighting me up I did not want to use my words. I can’t remember if I have ever used them. Maybe once, maybe never. They are there but I don’t want to use them. I don’t want to be weak. I don’t want to worry the Daddy in him. And as much as the pain was setting me on fire, I didn’t want this to end.

Finally, he stopped hitting my thighs. They were throbbing still. He came around and pushed his cock into my face. “See what this does to me? See what you do to me?” His cock was rock hard and dripping pre-cum.

“Open your mouth slave.” I reached my hand up to move my hair. With my head down it covered my face in a blanket of blonde. “I didn’t say move your hair!” He pushed his cock and a mouthful of hair into my face. Cum dripped into my hair as I tried to obey.

He pulled back and went back around behind me again. “Now slave, it is time for you to count. You know your words. That is the only way this will stop.” He took his buffalo flogger, which is the heaviest one he owns. It hits you full force like a fist. The weight of it is significant.

He began. He gave no mercy. It was full intensity from the beginning. “One Master!” I cried. Then again, “Two! Master. ” My whole body rocked forward with each strike. “Three! Master.” I went limp and held onto the bench with my hands. I didn’t want to flinch. I didn’t want to run. “Four, Master.”

On he continued at full force. Usually, he strikes in a rhythm. One, two, three, four. Two to each side then rest or some such rhythm where he breaks when he inherently knows I’m reaching a limit. He’s so intuitive to where I am mentally. This time, there was no break. The higher I counted the faster he got and soon I couldn’t count. I tried. I failed.

I agonized until I realized he would not stop. There would be no break. He would break me first. The pain was incredible. I took it and took it and still he did not stop. My mind was in turmoil. Make it stop! You can stop it! He said use your words. Oh god no. Daddy will stop it.

But there was no time to think. The pain was mounting. He had planted the seed. Use your words. “Yellow!” I said. Then I sobbed as he immediately stopped. “Yellow Master, yellow.” It had stopped but I hadn’t. He made sure I was okay to stand then he led me to the bedroom and had me lie on the bed. I was bewildered. I had used my safe word. One of them. Yellow is to pause, Red is full stop.

He moved about the room then laid beside me on the bed. “I used my safe word.” He nodded.

“I meant for you to use it.” He held me and made sure I was coming down safely.

“I said yellow but we stopped.” I was confused. Why had we stopped? Granted, I was deep in a submissive place and still reeling from the pain and endorphins.

“Daddy’s prerogative.” He held me and asked if I was okay. I thought he’d want sex then but he just held me until I returned.

Like this:

Mr. D and I had a couples massage for a treat. I had a woman who gave an incredibly deep massage. My shoulders and upper back were quite sore when she was done. She told me to let her know if she was hurting me, but when you’re supposed to be a masochist and your Dominant is lying next to you it feels pretty ridiculous to tell a short round woman, “Oh please stop, that hurts.” She said I was a mess, I took her word for it and let her do her job.

We stopped at Daddy’s favorite cigar bar and I met some friends of his. We enjoyed a few drinks and later arrived home. We laid on the bed for a bit, we were nicely toasty by then. He told me to stay as he left the room so I took off my clothes and knelt in obeisance waiting for him. When he returned he took my hand and led me to the spanking bench.

I was so happy that he wanted impact play. I love every expression of what he does to me. I mount the bench and I am his. I am his willing plaything. My hair falls over my face and I’m cocooned in the sensations he provides. His voice caresses me while his instruments play across my body.

Many times it is impact play and other things as well. He has tied me to the bench, he has facefucked me on the bench. He has made me wear plugs and other inserted things. This time though it was pure impact play.

He used a feather duster to awaken my skin and tease my nerve endings. Then he used a long leather flogger to prime me. I so love that flogger. It is heavy yet he wields it in such a way that it can provide thuddy pleasure. After he warmed me up with soft strokes he used this flogger to give me its bite and sting. I squirmed on the bench when he did this. The bite of it makes me whimper and move away from it. But this warms my skin and makes me feel completely alive.

He knows when I have reached my limit on one area of my body so he switches to another. He used several different crops on my back. With the soreness lingering from the massage I felt every biting smack of those crops. It wasn’t a respite from the pain it just moved the playing field.

“I want you to slip away and fly but I don’t think you will today.” I wondered how he knew. I felt languid and fully under his spell but he was right, I didn’t feel like I would go into subspace. He switched to the heavy buffalo flogger. This flogger is fairly new to us. When he wields it the impact packs an intense wallop. The sensation is very like being punched. Every strike to my ass jolts me forward on the bench and forces my voice and breath from me. I hear myself grunting as the hit ricochets through me. I absolutely love it. I feel every ounce of his power in those strikes. I am putty under his punishing blows. I want more, ever more.

Again he switched to something new. He never rests from the onslaught but he is in my head. He knows when to change rhythm, when to move from back to thighs to ass. We are a matched pair dancing the timeless steps of the sadist and masochist. He comes around to my face and holds a piece of leather to my lips. “The one I made especially for you, slut.” It was the slapper he had fashioned himself. I ran my lips over it, bit it lightly to feel it in my teeth. God, how I love this man.

When he was done he told me, “Rise when you are ready. Hold the sides and step down, one foot at a time.” I rose and was relieved I had listened to him and held on. I was so limp I would have fallen. I wasn’t in subspace all the way but I was certainly very deep into the sensations and experience. It took me time to come back together.

“Look what you do to me. I’ve been dripping the whole time.” I held his hand to steady myself and saw that his cock was hard and he was indeed dripping. I can’t tell you how much that thrills me. To know that he clearly is very turned on by what we do gives me such a rush of joy.

“Run your fingers up the base.” He’s teaching me how to milk him. I put my fingers around the base of his cock and run them up the vein on the underside of him. As they reach the tip, his come floods out if I’ve done it right. I took my prize and licked my fingers as he watched.

Like this:

I have a great family. I have siblings and parents that love me and all get along. For that I am truly thankful. They love and support me. I always have them around me. It is not this type of family about which I am writing today. I am writing about the family you choose and who chooses you. We are not related by blood or by marriage. There are no genealogical ties that bind. This family is all the more important because there are no seemingly ties. There is no reason to call them family save one; we choose them for our own.

My family with Mr. D is bound by commonality and community. They are our friends and so much more than that. We care for each other and love each other. If one family member is in need, everyone helps them. I have no experience with leather or kink families in the official sense. I have no idea how that works. But what we have feels like my sense of that. We have shared some kinky experiences and don’t have to be secretive about who we really are. I’m fairly new to having a kinky lifestyle outside the bedroom. My career would be severely impacted if my kinky lifestyle was outed. So, having kink-accepting friends is huge.

Two of our family that I’ve written about drove out to see us a couple weekends ago. El Jefe and Coupe came out from Arizona. We all met at a local friend’s home to enjoy a BBQ and hang out together. The boys smoked cigars outside and we talked, ate, drank and enjoyed a nice evening together on the patio.

What strikes me as purely awesome is that during the evening I could snuggle up to whoever would let me. Mr. D knows I’m his and allows me to be me. I wanted to snuggle up to Coupe, because he’s welcoming and handsome and really, any woman would want to snuggle up to him. He’s a gentleman and so easy to be around. So, when people got up and a seat next to him was free I took advantage of his place on a loveseat and curled up with him.

Later in the evening we all moved inside to the living room. El Jefe and Coupe occupied the couch so I took a seat between them. Mr. D was in a solo chair so I couldn’t get my hands on him easily. I leaned over to El Jefe and was rewarded with him petting me while I snuggled up to him. This man has the warmest big hands and you can feel how comfortable he is with touch. I’ll tell you, family that you are not actually related to is da’ bomb! I got to snuggle up to two hot men that are completely different while watching my Daddy flirt and banter with an attractive woman all night. What could be better?

While I was sandwiched between these two men, Mr. D took my picture and sent it to me. He said I was a slut. His slut, I replied. So, after a night of cozy fun I got to go home with my man, my Dominant. Life is so very good.

Like this:

We arrived at our flogging class. It was at a local dungeon with about 20 other people attending. The instructor was very good, I thought. He showed us a slow motion technique to learn Florentine flogging. This is a two-handed flogging technique. There are patterns that you can learn. The first was a four step pattern and the second was a six step pattern. Mr. D and I both felt the six step pattern was actually a little easier to pick up.

We practiced the patterns while the instructor came around and watched each of us and gave us pointers. Even though this was Mr. D’s first time with Florentine he was well practiced at flogging already. The instructor said to him, “I doubt I’m teaching you anything at all.”

It was really fun. I hate to admit it but I haven’t practiced at all since then. I would love to get to the point where I’m really good at it. I would love to flog people and give them that release and that experience. I don’t think there is anything wrong with a submissive topping someone to give them pleasure. It seems to me this would be one more service I can offer.

There was a play party after the class so we stayed at the dungeon for that as well. It started very slowly because it was pretty early. We sat and watched the crowd grow and listened to some nearby conversations between our classmates. One woman from the class entertained us by being an attention seeking person. I had noticed her in class. She was overly eager for anyone to notice her. It’s fun to people watch but even more so at a dungeon. The personalities are more pronounced.

After a bit, one couple began rope play in the middle of the great room. It was mesmerizing to watch the detail and concise movements of the guy tying the ropes. His girlfriend was a petite thing and he tied her quickly and well. He ended up suspending her from a wire placed above the room for that purpose. It was an interesting scene to watch.

After they were done, Mr. D and I walked about the dungeon looking into all the rooms. We saw a woman from the class with her Dominant. She was absolutely gorgeous and we had both remarked on her looks during the class. Her Dominant had her stretched over a pummel horse and was doing different things to her. Things like flogging and spanking but the interesting part to me was that we watched him punch her repeatedly in the back. It wasn’t like he was angry at all. It was a part of their sensation play. I commented to Mr. D and he knew about that type of play. He said it was impact play and gives a release similar to massage.

Mr. D asked the DM (Dungeon Master – a person in charge of monitoring the play in the dungeon) how we could use a room. At this dungeon, they had white boards at each door so you simply wrote your name on the board and then you had an hour. We took the last open room. It had dark painted walls, a couch and a large massage table.

“Take off your skirt and your top baby girl. You can leave on whatever else you like.” I stripped off my skirt, my top, and my bra. I stood before him in a black thong and strappy black shoes with silver studs. I’m not sure why I left the shoes on. I suppose for effect but I later regretted it. It was a challenge being bent over in the shoes.

“Bend over the table.” His hands caressed me and prepped my skin for the flogger. Even though I’m a chunky girl, I felt completely fine stripping down in the dungeon. Mr. D puts me at such ease. His clearly apparent desire for me and his admiration of my curves puts any hesitation I would normally have right out of my mind. If he wants me naked, I get naked. I’m his to do with as he pleases and to show off as he wishes.

He flogged me for a good amount of time. There were a few times where he hit me with the flogger and the falls rapped around my body and it stung across my waist and my stomach. This is very unusual. Mr. D is very skilled with one handed flogging. He told me later that all the practice we had done in class has worn out his arm. He tried a couple left handed strikes to test out his non-dominant arm but clearly did not have the same control.

He had all his implements laid upon the bed next to my head. I knew what was there, the floggers, the little silicon whip and the stingy hand paddle. He used the little whip and I felt the stinginess more deeply than during the flogging. The flogging he gave me was hard but there is a different level of sting with the whip. Then he rubbed the smooth paddle on my ass. I moaned.

“Yes, you know what that is, don’t you? Beg me for the paddle.”

“Please Daddy, please give me the paddle.”

He paddled me with it then. I squirmed and tried to get away from the stingy thing at first. It has such a concentrated sting and he knows my aversion to it. Then something happened. I told myself not to squirm away. I tried to stay still no matter how much I wanted to flee it. The more I did that the more I began to like it and want more.

Mr. D stopped and ran his hands over my red ass. He whispered in my ear and pressed his body into mine. “I want you baby girl.” His fingers pushed into my sex. “Mmm, you’re wet.”

“I want you too Daddy. Please fuck me.” I moaned and pushed my ass into him as proof.

“I want to, but where baby girl?”

“Right here Daddy, oh please.”

“No baby girl, not here.”

I sighed. I ached for him. I needed him inside me right then. I could care less who was watching through the doorway. It probably helped that I was bent over, couldn’t see them and Daddy’s scent and dominance filled my head.

Mr. D was stopping. We weren’t going to have sex and he was stopping. I wanted him and I wanted more. My odd change of heart with the stingy paddle still had my attention.

“Please Daddy may I have more of the paddle?” My voice was soft so he made me ask again. I really wanted it. He agreed and took the paddle to my ass fiercely. It was incredible. The heat, the pain and the sting were palpable. I was beyond the fear and I wanted every hit he gave me. I loved it all, took it all.

Afterwards, he gave me aftercare and we said our goodbyes. On the way home Mr. D said, “I was really surprised you asked for the paddle again.”

Like this:

I wanted to get a membership to the local dungeon here in our area because they have reciprocity with the dungeon that is near El Jefe and Goddess. Last time we were visiting them we decided to go but couldn’t because I’m not a member. Sigh.

Mr. D research the local area dungeon and all I have to do is take a class here and join our local club then we can go there when we visit. Yay!

While I was looking up the class I have to take I found another class on Florentine Flogging. If you’ve never heard of it, you’ll have to check out a couple videos I’ll paste in below. It is doublehanded flogging and you can do the flogging in many different combinations. I told Mr. D about it and he decided we’d go to the class. I was so excited! Going to a dungeon and a class on flogging with Mr. D…heaven!

He surprised me by having a new flogger mostly built by the weekend when I went to see him. He is so prolific. He completely astounds me by his speed and dedication to his desires. By the next weekend, he had four floggers completed. He made two heavier ones for himself and two lighter ones for me. They swing on a chain and have finger handles that are made out of leather and hardware. Mine have D rings and his have really sturdy O rings. He learned how to braid the leather thong that holds them together too. Check them out…

The two on the left are mine and the two middle ones are his new ones. The last one is the first flogger he bought many years ago. It has a different feel than the new ones. I think the new ones are made of oil tanned leather. It makes the leather more rubbery to the touch and more stingy to your backside.

I can’t wait to tell you about the class and our trip to the dungeon.

Here is the instruction video:

And another one by the same instructor actually flogging someone. A must see. 🙂